Punch Club
by sakiko of soleana
Summary: That old saying, you always hurt the one you love, well, it works both ways. Suffering insomnia, meeting at support groups, Hal the moosie embracing me, meeting fake Roxanne, meeting Wayne, the Revolution. All comes down to Mischief,Mayhem,Soap.RR
1. Chapter 1

Hey everybody this is Sakiko of Soleana!

Yeah I know you don't know me, but whatever, anyways this an idea I had about making a crossover between Megamind and Fight Club.

I actually thought it would be a pretty good mix, if I get enough reviews I will probably continue the story at faster pace. Especially now that summer is here.

Anyways enough of my rambling. On with the show!

Here are the roles.

Megamind- Jack ( he'll be referred as the Blue Man)

Metro man/ Music man- Tyler Durden ( in this thing he will be called Wayne Scott)

Roxanne Ritchie- Marla Singer ( as much as I don't want her, she's just going to stay as Roxanne Ritchie.)

Hal- Robert "Bob" Paulson ( he'll be known as Harold "Hal" Stewart in this. "Tighten" or "Titan" as Megamind intended will be used as a title of sorts so Hal can be comparable to the character of Robert Paulson who in the actual story was a body builder)

And Minion shall be assisting me.

Minion: hello! As a reminder I would like to say that, no Miss Soleana does not own Megamind, or Fight club.

Whatever.

Another note

"Speaking"

Author's notes and details.

'Thinking'

_Megamind's Narrative._

**Emphasis**

*noise or action*

As the story progresses, the rating may change.

This is not a Megaming/Metroman romance.

* * *

><p>...<p>

_People were always asking me, did I know Wayne Scott._

Two men are in a dark room, they are both sweating and disheveled, and both are probably around their early to mid thirties.

One man is tied up to a chair, baring pale blue skin, a large head, a thin body and stunning toxic green eyes, he is...Appealing, in a dry sort of way.

The other is a tough looking fellow, strong, and buff and blue eyed... Handsome. He sitting on the Blue Man's lap, one arm is wrapped around the Blue Man's shoulder and the other arm is holding a hand gun, the barrel lodged in the other's mouth.

The Handsome Man looks at his watch.

"Three minutes..." he said looking out a window."This is the beginning. This is it. We're at ground zero. Maybe you should say a few words, to mark the occasion?"

"... I... ann...iinn.. ff...nnyin..." said the Blue Man

_With a gun barrel between your teeth, _  
><em>you only speak in vowels.<em>

The Blue Man tongues the barrel to the side of his mouth, making sure it is in a comfortable position that would allow him to speak.

"I can't think of anything," he said, his voice sounding tired and distorted.

_With my tongue, I can feel the rifling in the barrel. For a second, I totally forgot about Wayne's whole controlled demolition thing... _

_And I wondered how clean this gun is._

The Handsome Man, now known as Wayne looks at his watch again.

"It's getting exciting now," he said, getting up and looking out the window once again, leaning the wall for support.

_That old saying, how you always hurt_  
><em>the one you love, well, it works both ways.<em>

The Blue Man turns his neck so that he can see his old friend and the view coming from the window. He can see down thirty-one stories.

_We have front row seats for this Theater of Mass Destruction. _

_The Demolitions Committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of ten buildings with blasting gelatin. _

_In two minutes, primary charges will blow base charges, and a few square blocks will be reduced to smoldering rubble. I know this_  
><em>because Wayne knows this.<em>

"Look what we've accomplished," said Wayne checking his watch again, "two and a half...think of all the things we accomplished."

_Somehow, I realize all of this - the gun, the bombs, the revolution -has something to do with Roxanne Ritchie._

_Hell...It's all about Roxanne Ritchie._

* * *

><p>Two years and eight six months ago...<p>

The Blue Man is pressed against two **large** breasts that belong to a moose of a man, on his 'Game Over' gaming shirt one can see a small sticker that read 'Hi, my name is: Harold Stewart.' He looks around twenty eight.

The Blue Man is engulfed by Harold in an intense embrace, his skinny arms keeping the Blue Man in place, from his brown eyes tears fell.

He was crying openly.

_This is Harold or "Hal" Stewart..._**  
><strong>_Hal had bitch tits._

The Blue Man looks around, peeking above the large breasts that the man now know more commonly as...Hal... were in a church meeting room, apparently its at night because outside the windows there was darkness. The Blue Man looks around some more. Men are paired off, hugging, talking in emotional tones.

Near the door, he can see a sign on a stand: "REMAINING MEN TOGETHER."

_This was a support group for men with_  
><em>testicular cancer. The big moosie<em>  
><em>slobbering all over me, was Hal.<em>

"We're still men," sobbed Hal, holding the Blue Man a little closer to him.

"Yes. We're men. Men is what we are," said the Blue Man in a dry and dull tone.

_Six months ago, Bob's testicles were removed. Then hormone therapy.  
>He developed bitch tits because his testosterone was too high and his body upped the estrogen.<em>

_That was where my head fit - into his huge, sweating tits that hung enormous, the way we think of God as big._

"They're gonna have to open my peck's again to drain the fluid," sobbed Hal.

Hal hugs tighter; then looks with empathy into the Blue Mans eyes. "Okay. You cry now," he said letting the Blue Man go.

The Blue Man looks at Hal and blinks slowly and tiredly.

_Wait. Back up. Let me start earlier._

* * *

><p>Three years ago...<p>

The blue man lies in bed, staring at the ceiling. The sheets are messy and there's a black phone gripped in the Blue Mans hand.

_For six months. I could not sleep._

* * *

><p>The Blue Man is standing, sleepy over a copy machine in some office of sorts. He is in a white dress shirt and is wearing a black business tie. His Starbucks cup sits on the lid, moving back and forth as the machine copies.<p>

_With insomnia, nothing is real._  
><em>Everything is far away.<br>Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy._

Other people in the office are droning over copy machines and make copies, all with Starbucks cups, sipping.

The Blue Man looking irritated, sighs, picks up his coffee and copies and leaves for his desk which is in the corner of the office near a window.  
>The blue man sips his coffee and sits down, stares blankly at a Starbucks bag on the floor, full of newspapers and fast food garbage such as Krispy Kreme take out bags and napkins and McDonald's hamburger wrappers.<p>

Fast-food Garbage.

The Blue Man sighs again and starts rubbing his temples, indirectly staring into the name brand garbage.

_When deep space exploration ramps up, it will be corporations that name everything. The Apple Solar System. The IBM Stellar Sphere._  
><em>The Philip Morris Nebula. The Microsoft Galaxy. Planet Starbucks.<em>

"A-hem,"

The Blue Man looks up as a pudgy man, his boss, clears his throat a Starbucks cup in hand, he takes a sip and slides a stack of reports on the Blue Man's desk.

"I'm going to need you out-of-town a little more this week," said the Blue Man's boss, "We've got some "red-flags" to cover."

_It must've been Tuesday. He was_  
><em>wearing his "cornflower-blue" tie.<em>

"You want me to de-prioritize my current reports until you advise of a status upgrade?" asked the Blue Man in a slurred listless management kind of voice.

"You need to make these your primary "action items." Hmph." says the boss with an eye roll, pointing at the reports as he spoke.

_He was full of pep. Must've had his grande latte enema._

"Well, here are your flight coupons. Call me from the road if there are any snags. Your itinerary..." The boss's voice begins to slur as he gets up to leave.

The Blue Man hides a yawn and pretends to listen with great interest.

* * *

><p>The Blue Man is back in his apartment, he is sitting on the toilet, a cordless phone jammed between his shoulder and his ear while he flips through an IKEA catalog. There's a stack of old Playboy magazines and other catalogs nearby.<p>

_Like everyone else, I had become a slave to the IKEA nesting instinct._

The Blue Man smiles a bit as he looks into the catalog and starts to talk into the phone

"Yes. I'd like to order the Erika Pekkari slip covers," He says as he drops the open catalog on the floor. The Blue Man then stops and looks at the catalog again. There was a picture of a coffee table set.

_If I saw something like clever coffee table in the shape of a yin and yang, I **had** to have it._

The Blue Man looks at a photo of an arm chair.

_Like the Johanneshov armchair in the Strinne green stripe pattern...  
>Or the Rislampa wire lamps of environmentally-friendly unbleached paper.<br>Even the Vild hall clock of galvanized steel, resting on the Klipsk shelving unit._

The Blue Man looks into his living room which is pretty big, and smiles at his possessions, all of them are organized and neatly placed around the room and its walls.

_I would flip through catalogs and wonder, "What kind of dining set defines me as a person?" We used to read pornography.  
>Now it was the Horchow Collection.<em>

The Blue Man looks around, the cordless phone still glued to his ear.

"No, I don't want Cobalt. Oh, that sounds nice. Apricot," said the Blue Man with a small enthusiastic tone in his voice as he walks into the kitchen.

He opens a cabinet, takes out a plate.

" I was holding. Yeah sure, I'd like to order that.

_I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections, proof they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working indigenous peoples of  
>...wherever.<em>

He rummages through the refrigerator. It's practically empty. The Blue Man takes out a jar of mustard, opens it and uses  
>a butter knife to eat it.<p>

* * *

><p>Doctor's Office<p>

The Blue Man stares at some intern, eyes puffy, face pale, sits before the intern, who  
>studies him with bemusement.<p>

"No, you can't die of insomnia," says the Intern, flipping through some papers on his clip board.

"Maybe I died already. Look at my face," said the Blue Man, basically glaring at the intern rather pathetically.

"You need to lighten up," said the Intern, getting up and heading out the door.

"What about narcolepsy? I nod off and wake up in strange places, I have no idea how I got there," Said the Blue Man, his eye twitching due to lack of sleep.

"Like I said. You need to lighten up," says the Intern with a sigh.

"Can't you give me something?" asked the Blue Man with an exasperated sigh.

_Red-and-blue Tuinal, lipstick-red_  
><em>Seconals<em>.

"You need healthy, natural sleep," said the Intern walking out the door, "Chew valerian root and get some more exercise."

The Blue man follows the Intern into the hallway, his eye twitching in anger and desperation. " Please, I'm in pain!" he exclaims.

The Intern turns around and stares directly into the Blue Man's eyes, unsympathetic, "You want to see pain? Swing by First Methodist Tuesday nights. See the guys with testicular cancer. That's pain," says the Intern as he walks away.

The Intern moves into the other room.

The Blue Man just stares after the Intern. His face blank.

* * *

><p>First Methodist Church- Night.<p>

The Blue man is now dressed in his white office shirt and a blue tie, a black blazer lazily hangs off his arm as he looks around and enters a church meeting room.

Upon entering the room the Blue Man stares at a group of men, including Hal, who are all listening to a group member speak at a lectern. The Speaker  
>has pale skin and sunken eyes. He's clearly dying.<p>

The Speaker looks around as he talks.

"I... wanted three kids. Two boys and a girl. Mindy wanted two girls and one boy. We never could agree on anything," says the speaker, shrugging his shoulders.

The Speaker cracks a sad smile. Some men chuckle, happy to lighten the mood until he speaks again.

"Well, she had her first child a month ago, a girl, with her new husband... And, Thank God. I'm glad for her, because she deserves..."says the Speaker before he breaks down, and weeps uncontrollably, his shoulders shaking.

The Blue Man watches.

A couple of the men go up to the Speaker, comforting him, and led him away.

Then a Leader takes the stand.

"Everyone, let's thank Thomas for sharing himself with us," he says.

Blue Man, uncomfortable, joins in when everyone says "Thank you, Thomas."

"I look around this room and I see a lot of courage. And it gives me strength. We give each other strength, "said the Leader smiling gently at the group.

The Blue Man looks around. Many of the men are sniffling, sobbing.  
>He squirms in his seat, uncomfortable.<p>

"It's time for the one-on-one. Let's follow Thomas's example and open ourselves," said the Leader.

Immediately everyone gets out of their chairs and begin pairing-off.

The Blue Man stands, uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as the Leader calls out "Can everyone find a partner?"

Hal, his chin down on his chest, starts toward Jack, shuffling his feet. He had already had his eye on the Blue Man, they were the only ones that didn't get partners.

_The big moosie, his eyes already shrink-wrapped in tears. Knees together, invisible steps._

"AH!" The Blue Man cries out as Hal pulls him in a sudden embrace

_Hal was a champion bodybuilder known as "Titan" or "Tighten" as he preferred. _  
><em>You know that chest expansion program you see on TV? That was his idea.<em>

Crying, Hal begins to open up to the Blue Man, holding him close as he does. "...Using steroids. I was a juicer. Diabonol, then, Wisterol - it's for racehorses, for Christ sake! Now I'm bankrupt, divorced, my two own kids won't return my calls..." he cried.

The Blue Man looks uncomfortable, but despite that he tries to comfort Hal. "Easy, it's okay," he mumbles.

_Strangers with this kind of honesty_  
><em>make me go a big rubbery one.<em>

Hal eventually breaks into sobbing, putting his head on Blue Man's shoulder and completely covering the Blue Man's face. After a long beat of crying, Hal raises up his head, looks at the Blue Man's nametag.

"Go ahead, uh, Cornelius. You can cry," says Hal with a soft smile, his face all wet with tears.

They look at each other. Slowly, the Blue Man's eyes grow wet and His lower lip quivers.

_Then... something happened. I was lost in oblivion - dark and silent and...Complete._

As the Blue Man starts openly sobbing, tears falling down his blue cheeks, Hal pulls the Blue Man's head back into his chest. Blue Man tightens  
>his arms around Hal and cries harder.<p>

_I found freedom. Losing all hope was_  
><em>freedom.<em>

The Blue Man's sobbing stops and he pulls away from Hal, on Hal's chest, there is a wet mast of Blue Man's face from how he looks weeping.

The Blue Man hiccups and hugs Hal again.

"There we go. Everything's okay," said Hal, trying to comfort the Blue Man.

* * *

><p>Blue Man's Bedroom- Night<p>

The Blue man lies in his bed sound asleep, an IKEA catalog resting open on his nightstand.

_Babies don't sleep this well._

_I became **addicted**._

* * *

><p>Next Day Office- Break Room<p>

The Blue Man looks at a list of support groups that has been posted on the wall.

Alcoholics Anonymous

"Glorious Day"

"Taking Flight."

Incest Survivors Group

"Positive Positivity"

"Learning To Soar"

Tuberculosis "We Can Fight It"

"Onward and Upward"

And so on... different schedules, different names. Same purpose.

Looking around cautiously, the Blue Man sighs and takes the list.

* * *

><p>Small Protestant Church - That Night<p>

Blue Man moves into a "group hug" of sickly people, men and women. In view is a sign by the door.

"Free and Clear."

_If I didn't say anything, people_  
><em>assumed the worst.<em>

* * *

><p>Next Night<p>

Office Building Basement

Blue Man stands with a weeping middle-aged woman. He begins to cry along with her. There is a sign by the door: "Onward and Upward."

_They cried harder. I cried harder._

* * *

><p>Public Building Conference Room<strong><br>**  
>everyone, including the Blue Man, sits back in their seats, eyes closed.<p>

The Leader speaks into a microphone, "Tonight, we're going to open the green door - the heart chakra..."

_I wasn't really dying, I wasn't host to cancer or parasites; I was the warm little center that the life of this world crowded around._

The Leader continued talking into the microphone,"...And you open the door and you step inside. We're inside our hearts. Now, imaging your pain as a  
>white ball of healing light. That's right, the pain itself is a ball of healing light."<p>

The Blue Man keeps his eyes closed and stays silent.

The Leader continues with her therapy, smiling whenever a person sighs in a peaceful way.

"It moves over your body, healing you. Keep this going and step forward, through the back door of the room. Where does it lead? To your cave. Step forward into your cave," she urges.

The Blue Man's eyelids twitch a little and he concentrates.

In his imagination, Blue Man walks along, moving through an ice cavern. He could hear the Leaders voice in the back ground, urging him on.

"That's right," she coos, "You're going deeper into your cave. And you're going to find your power animal..."

In his mind the Blue Man comes upon a penguin. The Penguin looks at him, shaking its little tail. With a smile and a little shake of its head the Penguin cocks her head to signal Blue Man forward.

Then with a little child like voice it opened its beak and spoke, with a bit of laughter.

"Slide."

* * *

><p>MAN that took me a while! Okay first off if it's not that good, forgive me, I am still starting.<p>

I will probably re edit this by the end of the week.

So whoever you are, please leave a review.


	2. sorely

Erm yeah, hey people.

This is actually an author's note for all my stories. okay first of... my computer has a virus...AGAIN.

so i cant really make an update because my computer is just going nuts.

anyways.

Tools for Problem solving is going on a Hiatus. Why? because i am running out of good ideas.

Punch Club is probably going to be rewritten due to lack of reviews and also because i really hate how i wrote it at the moment. so i don't know whats going to happen with that one.

Behind the Little Door is alright i really aprechiate all of the support and such. sorry for not being able to update.

The Prodigy is also good dont worry about her.

and as for my latest project, well lets just say its not coming out good. soooooooooooooooooo yeah, i apologize for the inconvenience, i know your annoyed because you were expecting an update but hey.

MY COMPUTER HAS A VIRUS.

okay i love you all, thank you very much and see you possibly in a few weeks.

LIVE LONG AND PROSPER

Sakiko Of Soleana.


	3. NEWS!

Hey guys, sorry this isn't an update,

but it it is NEWS.

And i need your help to STOP THE DESTRUCTION!

www. change .og /petitions / fanfiction - net - stop - the - destruction - of - fanfiction - net

Take out the spaces, add a r between the o and g, and plase sign. PASS THIS ON!


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